


fleece navidad

by lumheis



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Crochet, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Mistletoe, Pinterest, Sweaters, Yarn, alot of kissing like wow i went off, matt morrison's grinch interpretation, minor appearances from renjun donghyuck and jeno, the grannyification of na jaemin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28317792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumheis/pseuds/lumheis
Summary: After two painful weeks, three all-nighters, two mental breakdowns, and an increasingly suspicious boyfriend, Jaemin finally manages to crochet a sweater.Well, something akin to a sweater.He prays to all of the Christmas spirits out there that Yangyang will like it.
Relationships: Liu Yang Yang/Na Jaemin
Comments: 13
Kudos: 138





	fleece navidad

**Author's Note:**

> merry christmas! i offer you a jaemyang christmas fic

Jaemin is in a crisis.

 _It’s not a crisis_ , the Jeno-like voice in his head chides. Jaemin ignores him. It _is_ a crisis. Christmas is in two weeks, and he still doesn’t have a Christmas present for Yangyang.

Yangyang, who uses the word swag unironically, has an affinity for stuffed animals, with the music taste of an American high school athlete. And most importantly, his boyfriend. 

_Presents aren’t important_ , the voice continues. Wrong. 

In theory, gift-giving is a simple holiday tradition that doesn’t embody the spirit of Christmas. But for Jaemin, gift-giving is a love language, a way for him to communicate just how much a person means to him, in a way that transcends words. 

And Yangyang, he means _so_ much to him. Yangyang deserves everything, and if he could, Jaemin would give him the entire world. But alas, he’s on a bit of a budget. 

**―――――**

“Why don't you get him one of those,” Jeno gestures vaguely. “Squishy Mallows?”

“Squishmallows?” Jaemin scrunches his nose. “He already has like 50 of those, I want my gift to be special.”

“You could get him dirt from outside the campus Target and he’d cherish it forever,” Donghyuck drones, turning a page of his Cosmopolitan magazine. “It’s not that deep.”

Jeno hums in agreement, idly sipping his latte. “Don’t think about it too hard,” he reassures, sending Jaemin _that_ eye smile. “Yangyang is head over heels for you anyways.”

“You guys,” Jaemin sniffs, taking an aggressive sip of his hot chocolate, “Are no help.”

**―――――**

After his failed Starbucks outing with Donghyuck and Jeno, Jaemin had immediately driven over to Renjun’s apartment, dramatically falling onto his couch like a helpless Victorian housewife. The elder, of course, was unfazed, wholly engrossed in _the Grinch Musical Live! On NBC._

And now he’s here, cringing over how Matthew Morrison brings some sort of unsettling sexual energy to the Grinch. Renjun seems to enjoy it. 

Jaemin sighs for the nth time, hoping that Renjun will _finally_ get the hint, and talk to him about his incredibly pressing dilemma. 

Rolling his eyes, Renjun bites, turning the volume of the television down. “So,” he starts, conversationally. “What did you get the Devil for Christmas?”

“The devil has a name,” Jaemin scoffs, aiming a kick at Renjun’s shin. He misses. “And I haven’t gotten him anything yet.” 

“Why not?”

“Everytime I ask him,” he bemoans, finally unleashing his pent up gift finding frustrations, “He just giggles and tells me, ‘ _Don’t worry about it!_ ’ or ‘ _Your existence is a gift itself_!’” He bumps his head back on the couch. Renjun snorts at the way Jaemin’s voice goes higher to imitate Yangyang’s. 

“Damn,” Renjun turns up the volume. Jaemin winces at the cacophony of high notes, now amplified by a tenfold. “That’s tough.”

“Do you think it means that he actually doesn’t want a gift from me?” He asks hopefully.

“Oh no,” Renjun clicks his tongue. “Remember that stuffed animal you won for him at that arcade two years ago? He still sleeps with it- keeps it in his childhood bedroom and everything. He definitely wants one.”

He already knew Yangyang was adorable, but this? This just amplifies it. Great, now Jaemin is just going to leave feeling even more shitty about not being able to find a gift for his amazing, loveable, absolutely beautiful boyfriend. He never should’ve talked to Renjun.

“What do I do?”

Renjun falls into a contemplative silence, staring blankly at the television as he devises a plan. Jaemin hopes it’s a good one. “I have an idea.” He pats Jaemin’s knee before getting up, deftly grabbing his car keys. 

“Where are you going?” Jaemin asks, still sprawled out on his friend’s couch. In the background, Matt Morrison belts out a high note. 

“Shopping for your boyfriend,” he deadpans. “Are you coming?”

**―――――**

Somehow, “ _shopping for your boyfriend_ ” ends up with the two of them in some random Joann fabrics. Jaemin doesn’t know how it got to this either, but now he stands in the long, intimidating aisles of the fabric store while waiting for Renjun to finish searching for materials for his Santa Claus cosplay.

He’s still pathetically empty-handed, mainly because none of the gifts he’d seen in the stores Renjun had dragged him into gave him that _Wow!_ factor. 

The store is filled with old ladies, and Jaemin only feels slightly out of place. He wanders around the aisles, mindlessly looking around at the sale signs. Maybe he could buy some last minute gifts for his mom. 

He fiddles with the cuffs of his sweater, when he belatedly realizes that it isn’t his. It makes sense, all things considered; the sweater hangs looser than he usually prefers, and Jaemin would never buy an article of clothing with a black-and-grey leopard print pattern. 

All of these signs point to Yangyang, whose style consists of unique and oversized clothing. Jaemin walks past more signs, fondly thinking about his boyfriend’s questionable fashion taste.

_HOLIDAY BLOWOUT! CHENILLE YARN, 50% OFF! TODAY ONLY!_

Wait. 

Backtracking to the sign, he reads it again, and then once more to be sure. 

Sweaters. Those are made of yarn. You can make sweaters out of yarn. Yangyang likes sweaters. Jaemin needs a Christmas present. 

A lightbulb goes off in his head, along with a triumphant fanfare, congratulating him on his first success of the holiday season. 

Digging through the bin of yarn attached to the sign, he pleasantly notes how soft the yarn is, perfect for a sweater. And even better, a homemade _and_ practical gift checks off all of his gift-giving boxes. 

This is it, Jaemin thinks. Everything he’s ever done in his life has led up to this exact moment, where he’s hunched over a sale bin of yarn grinning like a madman, contemplating the logistics of knitting his boyfriend a sweater in less than two weeks for Christmas. 

Looking around discreetly, he plucks his phone out of his back pocket, pulling up Pinterest. 

Typing in _Easy Sweater Knitting Patterns,_ he scrolls through the pins, tapping on the one that matches the vibe he’s going for. 

The most simple one is actually a crocheting pattern, which seems easier than using two knitting needles. Scrolling through the directions, he triumphs at how simple it seems. It’s perfect. Jaemin has a crochet hook somewhere, passed down from his grandmother, the will of Pinterest _and_ love on his side. _What could go wrong?_

Saving the pin, he tucks his phone back into his pocket, turning towards the large bin. Digging through the yarn, he plucks out a ball that alternates between a vibrant red, green, and white, perfect for Christmas. 

He doesn’t know how much he’ll need, so he buys 6 balls of yarn, just to be safe. Technically, he’s only paying for 3. 

He stands at the exit, excitedly bouncing in place. The checkout lady had eyed him with thinly veiled apprehension, which makes sense, considering the way his maniacal smile hadn’t left his face. 

“Hey,” Renjun greets, holding a large plastic bag of red fleece. “You wanna keep looking?”

“Nah,” Jaemin says, trying and failing to hide his excitement. “I found something. 

“Nice.”

And thus, begins Jaemin’s twelve days of ~~Christmas~~ Crocheting. 

**―――――**

Finals week hits him like a truck, sending any plans he’d had to start the sweater careening out of the door. The bag full of yarn and the crochet hook lies sadly in the corner of his bedroom, forgotten as Jaemin crams last-minute for his exams. 

The last of the finals passes over, like a terrible winter storm, and Jaemin finally allows himself a moment to unwind, before catching sight of the bag stashed away in his room. 

Well, now would be a good time, he supposes, sitting at his desk and pulling up the sweater pattern from Pinterest. Just as he’s about to begin the first row of the sweater, his phone buzzes.

**yang💘**

just finished my last final :D

**me**

yayy!! party time💕

can i come over???

miss u

ofc, i miss u too <3

Shutting off his phone, he turns back to the project, hoping to kill time before Yangyang arrives. 

**―――――**

Just as he’s getting into the groove, the door to his apartment opens, followed by Yangyang’s telltale greeting. 

His eyes widen, and he frantically grabs his backpack, shoving the materials in haphazardly before Yangyang can see it. Spinning around, he can’t help the lovesick smile that blooms on his face, as Yangyang barrels into his outstretched arms. 

“Hey,” he greets, smiling down at the younger. 

“Hey,” Yangyang says back softly, sending him _that_ smile, the one he only reserves for Jaemin, teeth and gums on full display. “Did you miss me?”

 _Of course_. In lieu of an answer, Jaemin settles on pressing their lips together, content in the way Yangyang immediately melts into it, hands coming up to grip his shoulders.

Deepening the kiss, Jaemin slides a hand up, lightly tugging on the younger’s strands of hair. Swallowing up the answering groan, he presses closer, shuddering when a hand trails up his shirt. 

Pulling away for air, Yangyang drags a hand down his waist, coming down to intertwine their fingers. “What were you doing?” He asks, but it seems like he doesn’t care about the answer, with the way he presses open-mouthed kisses along Jaemin’s skin. 

Jaemin blinks at the sudden attempt at conversation, brain frazzled by how Yangyang trails his lips along his neck. 

“Just,” he breathes out, “Things.” 

“Was it important?” Yangyang murmurs. His gaze is heavy, and he looks at Jaemin through half lidded eyes. Jaemin shakes his head, and Yangyang’s tongue peeks out, just _barely_ wetting his bottom lip. Jaemin tracks the movement. “I’ve missed you.

“I missed you too,” he says distractedly. He sends the crochet hook tucked in his bag a silent apology. There’s no way he’s going to pass this opportunity up, especially when Yangyang slides into his lap, connecting their lips in a desperate kiss.

The sweater can wait, just for now. 

**―――――**

Yangyang stays for the night, but Jaemin finds himself unable to sleep, plagued with the sudden realization that Christmas is in a week. 

Hoping to make some progress, he’d snuck out into his kitchen, hoping to get started on the sweater.

It’s here that Jaemin finds himself at a loss. 

The clock reads a glaring 4AM, and he sits at the counter, unresponsive. Snowman by Sia has been playing on loop for at least 2 hours, and he’s pretty sure he’s unconsciously memorized the lyrics at this point. 

A pile of unraveled yarn lies in front of him, the crumpled printout of the crochet pattern cast aside. His eye twitches, and- did the lights just flicker? Oh no, that was just him blinking. 

Crocheting is hard, and Jaemin curses whoever decided that using a singular metal hook would be a productive way to produce textiles. Sighing, he picks up the crochet needle, starting the first row, _again_. 

“Jaemin?” The voice in his head questions. Usually the voice in his head sounds like Jeno, but this time it’s different. It’s a much more pleasant voice, something that he could listen to all day. 

“Are you okay?” The voice continues, getting louder and louder. It’s at this point that Jaemin realizes that the voice is, in fact, not in his head. 

Dazed, he looks up towards the source of the voice, and it’s- an angel? 

The angel laughs, _Did he say that out loud?_ He wants to store that sound in his head forever, maybe keep it as his ringtone.

“That’s a cute petname,” the angel snorts, “But it’s me, Yangyang. You know, your boyfriend?”

Oh, it’s Yangyang. 

_Wait_.

His head snaps towards the younger, and then back to the mess of yarn in front of him. If Yangyang finds out what he’s doing, the whole surprise will be ruined, and then Christmas is going to get cancelled, and then Jaemin is going to die alone because Yangyang’s going to dump him for ruining _everything-_

“Are you--” Yangyang approaches cautiously, watching Jaemin whip his head back and forth. His heart clenches at the dark circles under his boyfriend’s eyes. “Are you okay?”

Finally, Jaemin’s brain catches onto reality, and with the spirit of Claus and all other holy holiday beings he _moves_ , ungracefully shoving the mass of yarn, crochet materials, and patterns into his backpack.

Yangyang stands a mere 5 feet away from him, even more confused. He looks adorable under the dim glow of the kitchen light, hair ruffled. Reaching a sweater paw up, he muffles a yawn, blinking under the harsh light of the kitchen. 

For a moment neither of them move. Jaemin’s still thinking about how _cute_ Yangyang is. _You should probably answer him,_ the voice in his head, back to sounding like Jeno, supplies helpfully. 

“I’m perfect,” Jaemin shoots him a crazed smile. Yangyang tries to peer into his backpack, but he zips it shut, shoving it behind his back. “What are you doing awake?”

Yangyang graciously ignores his odd behavior. “I should be asking you that,” he smiles, shuffling closer. Now sure that Jaemin is somewhat sane he pulls him into a loose embrace, arms winding around his shoulders. “I heard the music,” he adds, resting his head on top of Jaemin’s.

“Sorry about that,” Jaemin says absentmindedly, drawing loose patterns into the thin material of Yangyang’s shirt. “I lost track of time.”

“It’s okay.” Yangyang says, utterly fond. He runs a hand through Jaemin’s hair, smiling at the way the elder melts into the touch. “Let’s go to bed.”

“But-”

“Nope.” he says firmly. “Whatever you’ve been doing for the past 5 hours can wait until tomorrow.” Backing up, his hand falls down to grasp Jaemins, tugging him up from his seat. Jaemin forgets about the backpack full of yarn, and allows himself to get led to the bedroom. 

Settling down, he winds an arm around Yangyang, who immediately burrows into his chest, engulfing him in a comforting warmth. 

“I love you,” he whispers, like a secret. He’s said it a million times, but he means it more and more as each day passes.

He barely registers Yangyang’s hushed, “ _I love you too_ ,” the events of the day finally catching up to him. The sweater can wait until tomorrow. 

**―――――**

Figuring out Yangyang’s size was his next crossroad, but luckily Jaemin is a master of stealth. 

“Put this on,” Jaemin says one day, chucking one of his sweaters at the other. 

“Okay,” Yangyang says easily, tugging the sweater over his thin t-shirt. It hangs loosely over his frame, but not in a bad way. Jaemin takes note when Yangyang subconsciously burrows into it. “Can I ask why?”

The sweater fits just how Jaemin envisioned his crocheted one too. Perfect. “You looked cold,” Jaemin lies. “Plus, it’s December, why are you wearing a t-shirt?”

**―――――**

The sweater is 75% done, Jaemin can see the finish line in the distance. It’s the final stretch, the endgame, the final boss in this quest that is crocheting a sweater. 

He’s getting it done today, after all, the stars have aligned in his favor. He’s motivated, and Yangyang is going out, so there’ll be no distractions this time. 

Well-- no distractions once Yangyang leaves.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” Yangyang pouts, tugging at Jaemin’s sleeve. “We haven’t gone out in forever.”

“I'm sure,” Jaemin says, before his resolve can crumble at Yangyang’s puppy eyes. His mind wanders towards the crochet hook shoved in his backpack. “I have something to do.”

Yangyang raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

“School.”

“The semester ended last week.” _Shit_. Yangyang laughs at Jaemin’s deer in headlights expression. “It’s okay,” he smiles brightly. “I know Dejun, Xuxi, and the other guys at the CSA can be a lot to handle.”

“They’re fine,” Jaemin reassures. Truly, he wouldn’t mind going to this end of the year party the CSA is hosting, but the sweater needs to get finished as soon as possible. 

He tugs Yangyang into a hug. Yangyang is so _tiny_ in his arms, and he’s the perfect height to comfortably rest his head on Jaemin’s shoulder. “I really have something to do.” He adds apologetically.

“It’s okay.” Yangyang murmurs into his shoulder. “I’ll just have to party hard enough for the both of us.”

“I guess you will.” 

Yangyang hums, making no move to pull away. Jaemin’s arms are settled comfortably around the other’s shoulders, and he pulls back a little, to study the other. 

The collar of his Gucci rugby is unbuttoned, just enough for the defined lines of his collarbones to peek through. Trailing his eyes upwards Jaemin notes the smaller details; the way his bottom lip juts outwards as he smiles, the soft curve of his nose, and his perfectly tousled hair. All of these aspects come together, painting a perfect picture that makes Jaemin’s heart pound and stomach flutter. 

But, perhaps his favorite part about the other is how his lips curve upwards, when he catches Jaemin unabashedly staring. “What is it?”

“You look pretty.” Jaemin says simply. He bites his lip, hiding a smile when Yangyang blushes at his sudden confession. 

“Oh?” Yangyang asks cheekily, although the flush on his cheeks betray his real feelings. He leans in closer, lips ghosting over his. “Do I?” 

“Yeah.” Closing the distance, he connects their lips in a slow, languid kiss. 

Yangyang tastes like peaches, Jaemin registers, lazily allowing the other to explore his mouth, relishing in the subtle fire that thrums in his veins. A pair of arms wind around his waist, pressing them closer together, and Yangyang smiles into the kiss when Jaemin jumps in surprise. 

The party started 10 minutes ago, but for now, nothing else matters, not when they’re pressed together. 

Yangyang’s phone buzzes insistently, probably a text from Dejun telling him to “ _hurry tf up”_. He ignores it at first, but the buzzing grows more insistent, until a shrill ringtone pierces through the air. 

Groaning, he begrudgingly pulls away while pressing _decline_ on his phone. Jaemin takes that moment to catch his breath. “They’re waiting for me,” Yangyang sends him an apologetic glance, reaching a hand up to smooth out his tousled hair. “Don’t have too much fun alone without me, okay?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Jaemin giggles, leaning in for a final kiss, before straightening up, patting out the nonexistent wrinkles on Yangyang’s rugby. “I love you,” he adds softly, walking with Yangyang until they stand at the doorway.

“I love you too” Yangyang replies automatically, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek. He throws him one last gummy smile, and heads off, gently closing the door behind him. 

He lowkey feels like one of those wives sending their husband to war, except he’s sending Yangyang to go get drunk at a CSA Christmas party. 

Letting out one last lovesick sigh, _Gross_ , says the Jeno in his head, he wanders over to his desk, pulling out the almost-finished sweater and a crochet hook. 

**―――――**

After two painful weeks, three all-nighters, two mental breakdowns, and an increasingly suspicious boyfriend, Jaemin finally manages to finish the sweater one day before Christmas. Well-- something akin to a sweater. 

It’s a mess of red and green, the multicolored nature of the yarn making the colors appear sporadically, making the sweater appear like a jumbled mess; none of it follows a significant pattern, and there are loose threads sticking out. He’s not even sure if it will fit, and one sleeve is an inch longer than the other. 

It’ll have to do. 

Finishing it on time is a Christmas miracle in itself, and Jaemin doesn’t look back as he shoves the crude-attempt at a sweater into a box. Wrapping it up carefully, he places it in the back of his closet, eager to forget about it until tomorrow. 

**―――――**

Christmas day comes faster than he would’ve liked it to, and Jaemin spends the entire morning doubting himself, wondering whether or not the sweater was actually a good idea. 

He’s about to say fuck it and go to Macy’s to buy a machine-made sweater, when the doorbell rings, signaling Yangyang’s arrival. They’d planned on a gift exchange before heading down to Taeyong’s for his Christmas gathering, but now that it’s happening Jaemin can’t help but wish he’d had a little more time. 

There’s no going back now. 

Opening the door, his heart skips a beat at the sight of his boyfriend, bundled up from the cold. “Merry Christmas!” Yangyang cheers, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Shaking off the cold, he steps inside. He holds a large gift bag, and Jaemin wonders what’s inside, and tries not to think about how much better it is than his own gift. 

“Merry Christmas,” he echoes back, putting on a smile that he hopes doesn’t show how nervous he is. Leading him into his living room, he grabs Yangyang’s present, sweaty palms almost making him drop the box.

Yangyang settles on the floor, and Jaemin sits down across from him, wordlessly dropping the box into his lap. 

“Ooh,” Yangyang says. “I’m excited!” Handing his own gift bag to Jaemin, he bounces up and down. “Do you want to go first?”

“No,” he says, “You go first.” 

“Okay!” Yangyang agrees easily, enthusiasm pouring out of him. Carefully tearing off the wrapping paper he opens the box, curiously peering inside.

At this moment, it honestly feels like time has stopped, and Jaemin holds his breath, praying to the gods above that Yangyang will like his gift. Worrying his lip between his teeth, he focuses on the way Yangyang peers into the box, studying his face for any signs of disappointment. 

“What’s this?” He asks, pulling the gift out of its box. Yangyang holds it up, in all of its colorfully mottled glory. The sweater looks even more poorly crafted under the glow of the Christmas lights. Jaemin winces. 

“It’s a sweater” Jaemin stutters out. “I made it for you.”

“For me?” Yangyang says, almost awestruck, like he can’t believe it. 

“Yeah. Crocheted it if you wanna get real specific.” Jaemin’s brain is on overdrive now, and he can’t tell if Yangyang’s reaction is good or bad. The pessimist inside him says bad. 

Yangyang falls silent, staring at the sweater clutched in his hands. Jaemin scrambles, trying to salvage the situation. “Um, I bought the yarn on sale at Joann fabric,” He supplies. “I had to find a pattern on Pinterest.”

More silence. _Oh god, I’ve fucked it up_ , Jaemin bemoans, regret washing over him in waves. He should’ve listened to Jeno, and just bought one of those large Squishmallows, anything would’ve been better than this-

A weight barrels into him, and Jaemin barely has time to react before he’s met with an armful of Yangyang. A pair of arms wind around him, pulling him into a tight hug. 

“Um,” he says eloquently. _This is a good sign, isn’t it?_ He returns the hug, still slightly confused at the other male’s lack of response. “Do you like it?” He averts his eyes, hands nervously fiddling with the material of Yangyang’s shirt. 

“I love it.” Yangyang says, voice muffled from the fabric of Jaemin’s own sweater. Pulling away, he looks up at Jaemin, with starstruck eyes and a giddy smile. His eyes are still trained on the floor, and Yangyang gently cups his face between his hands, so that they make eye contact. “I love it.” he says again, sincerely.

Jaemin sags in relief. “Oh thank god, I was so afraid that-”

“I’d hate it?” Yangyang finishes, raising a brow. “You know I’m too whipped to hate anything you’d give me.” 

“Well,” he defends, “I wanted to give you something special. Plus, Donghyuck suggested giving you dirt.”

“Donghyuck’s the worst at giving presents.”

Jaemin lets out a startled laugh, not only because of Yangyang’s words, but also because of how wound up he’d been from this whole gift-giving crisis. Soon it devolves into laughter, infectious enough that Yangyang joins in as well. 

They’re still embraced, and Jaemin makes no attempt to move, content in the way their laughter dies out, replaced by a comforting silence. 

“I want to try it on,” Yangyang says into the crook of his neck, shifting back to do so. 

“Be my guest,” Jaemin laughs, thinking about how misshapen it had looked when he’d tried it on yesterday. 

Sitting back on his heels, Yangyang tugs off his own shirt, giggling when Jaemin wolf-whistles at him. He pulls on the sweater, and for a moment Jaemin’s heart stops.

It’s exactly what he’d expected it to look like on him, maybe even better because it’s the real thing. The sweater completely dwarfs Yangyang’s small frame, swallowing him up in a knitted mess of red, white, and green. 

“How do I look?” Yangyang throws a peace sign up, face contorting into expressions that Jaemin can only guess are supposed to mimic those magazine models. 

A swell of pride wells up in him, at the sight of Yangyang in something that he’d made, all by himself. And yeah-- one sleeve is definitely longer than the other, and there’s loose threads sticking out at the collar. But, Jaemin finds it a gift in itself with the way Yangyang smiles secretly to himself in happiness. “Perfect.”

“Best gift ever,” Yangyang giggles, once again reaching up to cup Jaemin’s face in his hands. “I love you.” 

“I love you too” Jaemin says shyly. His gaze trails upwards, to the mistletoe he’d hung earlier. 

Yangyang follows his gaze, snorting in amusement when he catches sight of the sprig. “Well,” he waggles his eyebrows, “Tradition _is_ tradition.” He leans in, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation. 

“It is,” Jaemin agrees, leaning in as well, closing the distance. Their lips meet again, this time as a kiss underneath the mistletoe. 

The material of Yangyang’s crocheted sweater is _very_ soft, Jaemin discovers, trailing his hands downwards to wrap around the other’s waist, pulling him closer. 

“So,” He asks, eyes glinting in amusement when he pulls away. “Success?”

“Success,” Yangyang affirms. “I feel a little bad now,” he says sheepishly, “I just bought you a new backpack, because you kept looking at your old one weirdly.”

At this, Jaemin throws his head back, bursting into laughter. “That’s perfect,” he reassures, “Merry Christmas, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked this! i had such a fun time writing it TT 
> 
> come scream abut jaemyang with me!  
> [twt](https://twitter.com/lumheis)


End file.
